


graves of the unknown

by twilightscribe



Category: Fate/Zero
Genre: Complete, Drabble, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Moving On, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 11:27:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1132089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twilightscribe/pseuds/twilightscribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As time passes, these moments come less and less frequently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	graves of the unknown

**Author's Note:**

> **Words:** 309 words  
>  **Prompt:** tears
> 
> Written for [assistedrealityinterface](http://assistedrealityinterface.tumblr.com/) and a [tumblr prompt meme](http://zephyr-writes.tumblr.com/post/62701445437/fwips-theladyem-emstanbul). Feel free to leave them in my ask box.

Sometimes it strikes him in the dead of night. He wakes up, and for a second, he can hear loud snoring and it's just like things were. But then reality reasserts itself with shocking coldness and he has to take a sharp breath in. And ah, there's the pain he remembers so clearly.

He clenches his fists, feels the walls around his heart crack just a little and – during this time – there isn't anyway to stop up the gaps and it floods out and consumes him until he's lying in bed, curled up and sobbing until his throat is raw and he's too exhausted to cry anymore.

There are other times where it just hits him. It blindsides him when he does something completely ordinary – like taking out the trash or helping with the dishes. He brushes it off, but there's a knowing gleam in Glenn's eyes and Waver knows he isn't fooling him.

As time passes, these moments come less and less frequently until they come rarely at all. Though, that takes years to happen. Even ten years since the end of the war and Rider's death, Waver still sometimes wakes up in a cold chill and tears in his eyes.

Those are the nights where he doesn't sleep. Instead, he picks out the best bottle of wine he has, drinks straight from the bottle, and settles down with a video game. He plays until the sun has crested the horizon and is high in the sky, when his joints are stiff and sore. There's a crick in his neck and his back hurts, but the pain in his chest has faded to a dull ache.

After that, he takes a shower and goes about his day. One step at a time, he tells himself. He still has far to go if he wants to be worthy as Rider's vassal.


End file.
